


Waking is Worse

by Kalira



Category: Moon Child (2003)
Genre: 9 Year Time Skip, Blood, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Loneliness, Loss, Nightmares, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-09 13:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20995583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Sho suffers through nightmares, only to wake and find the world that awaits no better.





	Waking is Worse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Whumptober](https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does), Day 26: Abandoned

_Howls of pain echoed through the abandoned warehouse, and Sho ran and ran, listening to his brother scream in pain . . . and then his cries slowly fade into whimpers, fainter and fainter, as Sho never managed to get any closer._

_Eventually there was silence, and a sickening weight dropped into Sho’s stomach, his throat tightening and his blood running cold._

_A few minutes later, trembling and exhausted, Sho burst into the room and nearly tripped over his brother. He opened his mouth only to choke on a cry as he reached out to Shinji and found him cold, the huge pool of his blood beneath him thick and congealing.  
_  
Sho tossed restlessly, brow furrowed, and whimpered in his sleep.

_A sound made Sho whirl, gun already up and trained unerringly on the unexpected intrusion. He pulled the trigger even as he moved, but it clicked and didn’t fire. He tried again even as he reached for a fresh clip, looking around for-_

_Sho stumbled, breath catching at the punch and bite as he took a shot to the chest. A shot he hadn’t even heard coming, hadn’t seen coming. . ._

_Three more shots, the man who had so surprised him stalking nearer with each one, and Sho collapsed. He twisted as he fell, face smashing into the concrete as his own blood pulsed out and ran hot around him, choking him and painting his world dull red._

Sho gasped and choked, not waking even as he began to thrash.

_Whooping in triumph, Sho leapt and punched the air with his empty hand, indulging himself for a brief moment before moving over to dig through the cupboards for any more hidden stashes._

_Just as he was working open a lockbox he heard a step approaching, off to his left. He grinned and didn’t stop, only shifting to make it easier to draw his gun._

_He snatched it up and spun, already firing, and it wasn’t until several breathless heartbeats after his shots - perfectly on target, as always - had found their mark that he realised it wasn’t a guard, it was one of **his men**, collapsing with barely a whimper, blood gushing from his brow, eyes wide and shocked._

Sho woke with a cry of denial on his lips, already reaching for the presence that-

That wasn’t there.

His bed was cold and empty, save for himself, and the room beyond it dark and still and just as empty. There was no sound of another in the apartment, no hint of a presence, or even the quiet sense of waiting. . .

Sho twisted onto his side and curled up tight, gasping, his already wet eyes burning. He remembered. Of course he did, how could he not?

Kei was gone. Years gone, and Sho had begun to realise - to accept, with an achingly numb sense of loss - that he was never . . . coming back. That however much he loved Sho, whatever promises and plans they had made together, whatever Sho had expected . . . Kei had been more driven by his guilt and his fear.

Sho hauled his pillow closer to muffle himself as he never had when Kei had been here with him, turning to press his face into it. The darkness behind his eyes throbbed with pulsing blood - Sho’s own, his brother’s, his man’s; blood spilt because he wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t strong enough. Because he had _failed_. Blood and pain and death and guilt and grief. . .

They whirled around him, choking and tight and clogging his veins, making him hot and cold by turns, until Sho struggled even to breathe.

There was no soft murmur to comfort him, no cool hand on his back or neck or winding through his hair, no small body settling near him. There had been others in his life, and still were, those he had managed to keep - his heart beat a familiar mournful rhythm at the thought of Toshi - but no one had centred his world like Kei.

As long as Kei had been there-

But he wasn’t. Sho sobbed and curled up tight, fingers clutching at his pillow. Kei was gone and he would never come back to Sho and it hurt worse, frightened him more, drove him deeper into the painful madness of grief, than all the nightmares in the world.


End file.
